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'By Jove,' added his lordship, 'if the fellow had taken the whole
country round, he couldn't have chosen a worse spot for such an exploit;
for there never _is_ any scent over here. See! not a hound can own it. Old
Harmony herself throws up.
The whips again are in their places, turning the astonished pack to
Frostyface, who sets off on a casting expedition. The field, as usual, sit
looking on; some blessing Sponge; some wondering who he was; others looking
what o'clock it is; some dismounting and looking at their horses' feet.
'Thank you, Mr. Brown Boots!' exclaimed his lordship, as, by dint of
bitting and spurring, Sponge at length worked the beast round, and came
sneaking back in the face of the whole field. 'Thank you, Mr. Brown Boots,'
repeated he, taking off his hat and bowing very low. 'Very much obl_e_ged
to you, Mr. Brown Boots. Most particklarly obl_e_ged to you, Mr. Brown
Boots,' with another low bow. 'Hang'd obl_e_ged to you, Mr. Brown Boots!
D--n you, Mr. Brown Boots!' continued his lordship, looking at Sponge as if
he would eat him.


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